Scenes from an Italian Restaurant
by Sameuspegasus
Summary: Jimmy gets exploded one too many times. Cas has to get a new vessel . Girl!Cas/Dean.
1. Chapter 1

Sam swung his machete hard and fast. It hit muscle and then bone, and caught, unable to slice cleanly through the neck of the vampire. Sam tugged it out and hacked at the neck again, but the blade was blunted from overuse, and still didn't take the vamp's head off. He could hear Dean making smart remarks as he fought through his own swarm of vampires, trying to get to Sam. Sam brought the knife down a third time, and this time the head came off, rolling away as the body dropped, bloody and lifeless to the floor, only for its place to be filled by another vamp.

This was it. They were going down. Across the room, Dean was shouting something, but Sam couldn't make out the words over the noise of his blade hitting flesh and the rush of blood in his ears. He was backed against the wall, just him against three vampires.

Then suddenly he wasn't. There was a flash of long dark hair, a swirl of tan trench coat, a burst of white light, and then he was dropped unceremoniously on the floor of the motel room.

Beside him, Dean was staring up at the woman who had saved them.

She was staring right back at him.

Sam sat up, wiping blood splatter from his brow. "Thanks for saving us. Uh, who are you?" he asked.

"Hello Sam," the woman said, affording him a brief glance before returning her gaze to Dean. "You two need to be more careful. I have greater concerns than this." But she placed a hand on Dean's face and the cut on his forehead closed.

"Cas?" Sam asked.

Dean stood up, wiping blood from his face with his shirt, and helped Sam to his feet. "You okay, Sammy?"

"He's fine," Cas said shortly.

"I hate to ask the obvious question, Cas, but why are you a girl?" Dean asked.

Cas darted his eyes away from him for a second. "There is a limit to the number of times a vessel can be exploded without permanent damage."

Dean's face took on the expression Sam had seen when Chuck had pulled a tooth out of his hair, but he covered it quickly with anger. "So you tricked this poor chick into letting you use her body?"

"The alternative was burning your eyes out rescuing you after your ill-advised mission to take on the nest of vampires without back-up inevitably went awry." Cas spat back.

"Oh, we're going to talk about going into dangerous situations without back up, are we, Mr Exploding Man?" Dean glared at Cas, taking a step closer.

"You guys don't really need me here for this, do you?" Sam asked. Neither of them showed any sign of hearing him. "Okay, well, I'll be in the shower."

Sam took his time washing the congealing vamp blood out of his hair. If you didn't get it all out, it could get pretty gross. The water ran pink down the drain. He could hear Dean arguing with the new female voice of Cas, and sang to himself to drown it out.

He let the water run cold before he got out. If Dean wanted to stand around picking fights with the angel for saving them that was fine with Sam but he could wash his ungrateful ass in cold water.

Dean was sitting alone at the table, glaring angrily at the empty spot where Cas had been standing.

"Shower's free," Sam said. "You okay? Where's Cas?"

"Back upstairs," Dean told him. "Dammit, why didn't he ask us for help?"

"Dude, he's an angel. I'm pretty sure we couldn't help him anyway."

Dean shrugged, looking unsatisfied, and got up to have a shower. "Kind of weird that he's a chick now, huh?"

Half an hour later, Dean was still in the bathroom. Sam did not want to know what he was doing in there, but chose to believe he was sulking about Cas.

There was a sudden shout of surprise followed by "Shit, Cas. Don't do that!"

The unfamiliar female voice made a short, quiet reply, and then Dean slammed out of the bathroom, saying angrily: "Well, first of all, I didn't recognise you, and second of all, I was naked, Cas! You don't just appear out of nowhere when someone's getting dressed!"

"I apologise," Cas said stiffly, a line appearing between the neat, arched eyebrows of his new vessel as he frowned at Dean. "I was not aware it would be a problem. I see no reason for you to be embarrassed about your nakedness. The human form is aesthetically pleasing."

Dean turned pink and made a weird choking noise. "What do you want, Cas?"

"I came to check on you, since you are clearly incapable of staying out of trouble for more than a few minutes at a time."

"Fine, whatever," Dean said. "Just stop spying on me in the bathroom. It's weird." He flicked the coffee pot on.

Cas watched him closely before sitting upright on the end of Dean's bed and turning on the TV. Dean came and sat next to him, flicking through channels in a vain attempt to find one that wasn't playing advertising.

"So, is it weird being a chick?" Dean asked.

Sam, as was so often the case when Cas was in the room, felt somewhat superfluous.

"It is much the same," Cas said, "Although I find the hair impairs my visibility. I understand now why you keep encouraging Sam to cut his hair."

"You could tie it up," Dean suggested. "I'm sure Sammy's got a nice hair ribbon you can use."

Sam spluttered indignantly, but didn't say anything, because then Dean might remember that Sam was in the room, and notice that he was playing with his totally platonic, newly female best friend's hair.

"I think it would be more practical simply to cut it off," Cas said.

"I think you should keep it," Dean said, "It'll, um, help you blend in. Chicks have long hair."

Sam grinned, seeing his brother go red as he tried to find a reason for Cas to keep the hair without saying he thought it was pretty.

To be fair to Dean, Cas's new vessel was extremely good looking. It made sense. She was related to Jimmy Novak somehow, and Jimmy had been a good looking guy. Sam refrained from asking who the girl was, because Dean and Cas seemed to have got over their earlier fight and were sitting close together, watching TV. Bringing it up again would just cause tension, and Cas would vanish, and Sam would have to put up with Dean being extra grouchy for the next week, like he always did when Cas disappeared. Anyway, Dean and Cas were kind of cute when they were getting along.

This whole Cas turning into a girl thing wasn't nearly as weird as Sam had thought it would be.

"Why did you keep the coat?" Dean asked suddenly.

"I like my coat," said Cas.

"It is kind of badass," Dean said.

"Yes," Cas agreed.

The Sam saw it. Dean clapped Cas on the back and left his hand there. What the hell? Dean and Cas didn't touch each other. Stared deeply into each other's eyes, stood inappropriately close, and had long non-verbal conversations that Sam didn't understand, yes, but lingering touches? That was something Sam hadn't seen before.

"Dude," he said to Dean later, when Cas had gone back to heaven and Dean was sulking on his bed like a girl whose boyfriend had rejected her to hang out with his boys. "Cas is a girl now."

"Yeah, it's weird, huh?"

"It's not that weird," Sam said, because, yeah it was a little strange seeing a random chick standing a six inches away from Dean, but really it was still Cas. It wasn't like he'd turned into someone else.

"Yeah it is," Dean insisted, "He's got long hair. And boobs and stuff."

"That's good, though, right? You like boobs."

"What are you saying?" Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam.

"Nothing," said Sam, and turned on his laptop.

"If it's nothing, why do you keep bringing it up?" Dean asked.

Sam sighed. Seriously? Cas was a girl now, and Dean still wasn't getting it? "Whatever. Just don't get distracted by his boobs in the middle of a case."

"Seriously, Sam. You're being really weird about this."

Cas dropped in again two days later, while Sam was on the phone to Bobby, trying to organise extra hunters to help them out with the vamps. They'd underestimated the number they had to deal with last time, and now there were a dozen angry vampires in the old barn on the edge of town that they had to deal with. Too many for two people.

"Yah!" Dean jumped. "Oh, right, it's you."

"Are you alright, Dean? Your startle response seems to have become more pronounced recently." Cas stepped even closer to Dean and examined him.

"You look different, Cas. I'm not used to some random chick popping up behind me. You might think turning into a chick is no big deal, but we humans are used to people looking pretty much the same every time we see them."

Cas nodded, a strange look on his delicate features. "You don't like my new appearance."

Dean spluttered. "No. It's, um, nice. Very... pretty..." His face was turning red. Sam was reminded forcibly of himself telling Jess he liked her dress on their first date.

"Hey, Cas, since you're here, can you help us with these vamps?" Sam broke through the awkward silence. Man, this was even worse than watching Dean fix Cas's tie for him before interrogations.

"I will deal with it," Cas said matter-of-factly, and disappeared for a second. "The vampires are dead," he said, reappearing even closer to Dean, his hair in disarray, his coat covered in blood splatter.

"Dude, you were gone like two seconds," Dean said, sounding remarkably like a small boy talking to a football player or Santa.

Sam had always suspected Dean thought it was kind of hot when Cas did stuff like that, but now he was sure of it.

"Hey, why don't we all go to the movies tonight," He suggested. "We haven't done something like that for ages. Cas has never been to a movie, right?"

"Well, actually," Cas started.

Sam cut him off. "We can go out for dinner first, get dressed nice all that. It'll be great."

Dean looked at him suspiciously. "What's brought this on?"

"Oh come on. We haven't done anything fun for ages," Sam said. "We just sit around in motel rooms and watch TV. We saved the world three months ago. We should be celebrating."

Dean shrugged. "Whatever."

Sam made Dean take a shower and dress in his fed shirt and jeans, because you had to dress nice to celebrate saving the world, and while Dean was in the shower he pulled Cas aside.

"Take off the coat."

Cas obediently took off the coat. His new vessel had been wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt when she'd accepted him, so that was what Cas was wearing now. It wasn't particularly dressy, but it would do. Sam was pretty sure that if he found her a dress Dean would freak out and run away anyway, so it was probably better this way. Plus, he couldn't really imagine Cas in a dress. It just seemed weird.

"You're gonna have to clean the blood off this before you go out," Sam told him, and in a blink, the bloodstain was gone from the front of the shirt. He handed her a comb and went to get ready.

They arrived at the little Italian restaurant Sam had booked half an hour later. Sam let the waiter lead them to a table and sat on one side, ensuring Dean and Cas were facing each other.

"Why do you keep looking at my chest, Dean?" Cas asked.

Dean picked up a drinks menu and hid behind it. "I – er, sorry. You're a chick, I can't help it."

"I don't mind, I was merely curious," Cas said.

Sam stood up. "I'm gonna go see where the waitress is," he lied.

He made his way over to the host's station. He glanced back at the table, where Dean and Cas were talking to each other, intensely but with little smiles on their faces, the way they did when they forgot Sam was in the room. "Can you remove the third place setting from that table?" he asked the host. "And maybe send over some candles or something?"

He sent Dean a text when he got back to the motel, so they wouldn't worry and go off on a crazy rescue mission for him (although now that he thought about it, that would probably be an awesome first date for Dean and Cas). _Gone back to motel. Have fun, guys._

Sam spent the evening savouring the experience of being alone in the motel room without being in the middle of a fight with Dean, and catching up on some reading. He couldn't believe how long it had been since he'd last read a book for entertainment. The Impala rumbled into the parking lot just before midnight – easily late enough for them to have gone to a movie and then followed it up with 'other stuff'. Sam pulled back the curtain a couple of inches and peeked out.

Dean and Cas were standing very close together in the pool of light made by the bulb outside the motel room door, looking intently at each other. _Kiss, kiss_ Sam chanted in his head.

They didn't. But Cas did put his hand on Dean's shoulder and leave it there for a minute, and Dean did tuck Cas's hair behind his ear, so Sam took it as a win.

Sam dropped the curtain and flung himself across the room so he was lying casually on his bed pretending to read when the door opened and Dean walked in alone.

"I hate you, Sam," Dean said, but Sam could hear the smile in his voice.

**A/N: I hope you liked it. This was my attempt at writing a girl!Cas fic that wasn't really sexist and didn't make Cas OOC. Review and let me know what you think. **

**Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine.**


	2. Chapter 2

"I don't get it, man," Sam said, "I thought now..."

"You thought now what, Sam?" Dean snapped, jerkily pulling his boots off and throwing them onto the motel floor.

"You and Cas. I kind of thought you'd be all up in that now that he's got a female body."

Dean glared at him and flicked on the TV, flopping back onto the worn coverlet of his bed. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Sam snorted. Was Dean serious? All that mooning around, staring into each other's eyes and not doing anything about it. What was Sam supposed to think? And Sam knew for a fact that Cas's new body was exactly Dean's type. Dark hair, slender but fit looking, curves in the right places. So why was Dean sitting here sulking because Cas had turned up to save them again and zapped straight back to heaven?

"Dude, don't even try to tell me you're not interested in that. Why don't you do something about it?"

"I'm not- me and Cas, we're not like that," Dean stumbled and turned up the volume of the TV.

Sam shook his head and jabbed the power button on his laptop. He'd kind of got Dean being in denial before - it's not like Sam would care that Cas was another dude, or even that Dean was bothered by other guys being into dudes, but he seemed to feel like it threatened his masculinity, or identity or something, and Dad would probably not have been cool with it if he was alive - but what was stopping him now?

He glanced over at Dean to make sure he wasn't looking, and quickly typed "Matchmaking ideas" into the search engines. If Dean wasn't going to do anything about it on his own, Sam would just have to do something about it. There wasn't much more of this he could take.

XXXX

"Hello Dean," Cas said, acknowledging Dean before Sam as usual. Dean caught Cas's eye and held his gaze for a moment.

Sam resisted the urge to mime being sick as they offered each other tiny smiles.

"What happened to the ponytail?" Dean asked, after a moment of sustained eye contact just long enough to make Sam a little uncomfortable.

"I lost the elastic in the transformation to my true form," Castiel said, "I require a new one."

Dean grinned and patted him on the arm as he walked. "We'll get you a whole packet. Is that why you're here? Not that I'm not pleased to see you, man, but usually there's some kind of vitally important mission you need us for when you just turn up like this."

Cas shook his head. "There is no mission at this time, but I would like to be prepared for the next one."

Sam sighed at Dean's confused expression. Dammit, he should have warned Cas when he called to come up with a better reason for dropping by. Although why neither of them seemed to be able to just come out and say "I just want to spend some time with you and stare deeply into your eyes and then ravish you until neither of us can move", Sam didn't know.

"Okay, cool," said Dean, "We need to go on a grocery run anyway, you might as well come."

Sam had been going to cry off the trip to the supermarket so they could have some time alone together, but he found himself dragged along. Partly because of Dean's tendency to go grocery shopping and come back with four bags of chips, a bottle of Jack and a lightsaber, but also because someone had to be there to send them off on a trip to the movies or a walk in the park or something slightly more romantic than going grocery shopping.

Cas walked around the supermarket wide-eyed and curious. Sam ended up doing most of the shopping while Dean went back to look for Cas every time he wandered off to look at something. Sam took the opportunity to sneak some vegetables into the cart, and was wheeling it back towards the milk, when he looked down the aisle where Dean had gone in search of Cas.

Cas had picked a colourful cereal box off the shelf and was peering at it closely, his (or was it her, now? Sam shrugged it off - this was no time for philosophising about gender identity, not when Dean and Cas were being so adorable) long dark hair flowing down his back, shining in the bright artificial light of the store. Dean was standing close behind Cas, looking over his shoulder and pointing something out, a grin on his face. Sam snickered to himself, noticing that their shirts matched. He was definitely going to give Dean some crap about that, because it was clearly Dean dressing to match Cas rather than the other way around.

"Excuse me," someone said behind him. He started, realising he was standing in the middle of the aisle, and stepped aside to let an elderly lady push her cart past him.

"Oh, what a lovely couple," she commented to Sam, loud enough that Cas looked up at them, "My husband and I used to do the grocery shopping together, you know," she confided, in the way old ladies had always used to confide in Sam, but hadn't so much in the past few years. "We were together for 53 years." She smiled sadly at Sam.

"Wow, congratulations," Sam smiled at her, and looked back up at Dean and Cas, who had put the cereal box back and were making their way back to Sam.

"I see you're making friends, Sammy," Dean said as they approached, "Ready to go?"

"Just have to get milk," Sam told him, "This lady was just commenting on what a lovely couple you are."

The old lady smiled a crinkly smile at Dean and Cas. "I was just telling your friend how nice it is that your husband goes grocery shopping with you. I did the same with my husband and we were together more than fifty years," she told Cas.

Surprise flickered across Dean's face but he didn't deny it.

"Dean is a very good man," Cas told the old woman seriously, "It was nice to meet you, Susan. Gerald loved you very much."

"Yeah, okay Cas, let's go," Dean dragged Cas away before he could say anything else to freak Susan out.

"You know what we should do?" Sam said, when they were back at the motel, eating lunch, "We should go to the gardens."

Dean looked at him suspiciously across a mouthful of sandwich. "Why?"

"They're a big tourist attraction," Sam said, "People come from all over to see them, and it's not like we've got anything important to be doing right now."

"Cas probably does," Dean said, "Don't you have some douchebags to boss around upstairs, Cas?"

Cas stiffened and looked uncomfortable. "Things are settled for the moment," he said, "I can spare an afternoon."

"Really, dude? Gardens?" Dean snorted, "Okay, I'll just grab my crochet and we can have a nice afternoon gossiping by the begonias."

"I would like to see the gardens," Cas insisted, "They are meant to be quite beautiful." Then he adds, "there are ducks," like it's some kind of incentive that will make Dean not think gardens are totally lame.

Sam figured out later on that Dean actually quite liked gardens, no matter how much he complained, and he was much more willing to let Cas tell him about a million different types of roses than he was to let Sam tell him about herbs.

He drifted away as Cas was showing Dean a white rose. Sam smiled to himself as Cas picked one and presented it to Dean. They caught up to Sam not long after, but Dean was still holding the rose.

"Wow, Susan was right," Sam smirked, "You guys are so sweet."

Dean blushed and smacked Sam on the back of the head. "We're not a couple, Sam!" He looked down at the rose, and then at Cas, and then back at Sam. "Cas just doesn't know what it means to give people flowers."

Cas dropped his gaze, looking dejected for a moment.

"Right, Cas?" Dean said.

"Right," Cas said tightly.

"I'm gonna, um, go find something to eat in that overpriced museum thing," Dean muttered, "Anyone coming?"

"I'm going to look at the vegetable garden," Sam said, "Want to come, Cas?"

Cas nodded. "Yes, I will come with you, Sam." He didn't look back at Dean as they walked off towards the vegetable garden.

Sam saw a flicker of betrayal cross Dean's face, just for an instant before he turned and marched off in the direction of the cafe. Sam noticed he kept the rose.

"What did you want to speak to me about, Sam?" Cas asked matter-of-factly as they looked at the giant pumpkins. "I assume you have a reason for inviting me to the vegetable garden."

Sam hesitated. "You and Dean," he said.

"Yes?"

"You like Dean, right?"

Cas looked at him impatiently. "Of course I like Dean. Most of the time."

"I mean, like, like him."

"What do you mean 'like like'?"

"I mean you want to be more than friends, right?"

Cas said nothing.

"I kinda thought that now you were a girl, you guys would ride off into the sunset together," Sam pretended to find the pumpkins extremely interesting.

"I presume that is a metaphor," said Cas, "I don't understand why you would assume that."

"I mean, you guys obviously care about each other a lot. I don't get what's holding you back."

"It is more complicated than the sex of my vessel, Sam."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, for a start, I appear to have failed to master human courtship rituals."

Sam choked. So Cas had given Dean the rose intentionally.

"So you want this to happen, then?"

"It doesn't matter what I want, Sam."

Cas looked so human right then it made Sam's chest tighten. He patted him awkwardly on the back. "He likes you back, you know. He's just Dean and he's got issues."

"I should really get back to heaven," Cas told him.

"No wait," Sam grabbed his arm. He should have known Cas wouldn't want to talk. The angel was learning social skills from Dean, after all. "You can't leave without saying good-bye to Dean."

Dean wasn't at the cafe. They found him eventually, sitting moodily by the duck pond, ripping bits of bread off a roll and tossing them into the water for the birds. The white rose was sitting on the bench beside him.

"Just say goodbye before you leave, Cas. He worries about you when you're gone," Sam told Cas, "I'll help you out while you're away."

"Why does he worry about me?" Cas sounded a little offended, "Does he not believe I am strong enough?"

Sam shook his head. "He worries because he's Dean," he said, and nudged Cas toward his brother.

Later, at the motel, when Dean was grouchily demanding Sam find them a case, Sam threw the TV remote at him. "Cas is fine, dude. Just because he's in a female vessel it doesn't mean he's weak."

"I'm not worried," Dean lied through his teeth. "And what was with all that crap about us being a couple today? Cas isn't... I mean Cas doesn't... shut up."

Sam rolled his eyes. Seriously? The reason Dean and Cas were not currently causing city-wide rolling blackouts as they went at it in the next motel room was that Dean thought Cas didn't like him back? Sometimes Sam just wanted to shake some sense into his brother.

He settled for making sure their next case would involve Cas.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: And I'm pulling out all the clichés for this one. Because every girl!Cas fic has to have a shopping chapter.**

"No. No way," Dean said firmly, taking a bite of eggs on toast so he wouldn't have to keep talking.

"Why not, Dean? It's not that big a deal. All you have to do is pretend Cas is your girlfriend for a couple of hours. What's the problem?" Sam tried to look annoyed, even though he'd known Dean would take some convincing. He'd deliberately picked the case to get Cas working with them, because Dean and Cas needed to work this thing out before it drove Sam insane.

Dean floundered for a second, taking another huge mouthful of breakfast and chewing it loudly in an attempt to distract Sam from talking about Cas. Sam didn't let him get away with it. "People are dying, Dean. They're walking into that place as couples, and only one of them is walking out. Would you rather Cas and I posed as the couple? I don't mind."

Dean glared at him.

"Think about it, Dean. We've got three options - you and Cas, me and Cas, or you and I, and I really don't think that anyone's going to buy us as a couple."

"Lots of people do," Dean started.

"Dude, I'm not making out with you so that you can avoid confronting your feelings. You choose - you and Cas or me and Cas."

Dean shovelled a last forkful of eggs into his mouth and threw his fork down, glowering. "Fine. But don't think I don't know what you're doing. Did you even ask Cas about this?"

He'd organised it with Cas. Well, kind of. He'd told him that they needed backup on the case and that Dean was the bait. Cas had agreed to come pretty quickly after that.

* * *

Sam held back a laugh as he watched Dean change his shirt a third time. Because he wanted to fit the visual profile of the men who had disappeared. Right. Not because he wanted to look good for Cas at all.

"I dunno, man," Sam said, "I think maybe we should get you a new shirt. All the guys who were taken we pretty well put together."

"Are you saying I don't look good? I don't need a new shirt." Wow, Dean must really want to look good for this totally-not-a-real-date, because Sam didn't buy that at all.

Ten minutes later they were on the way to the mall. Sam congratulated himself on his almost too-good manipulation skills. A few subtle insults could have Dean playing right into his hands. He thought he should probably feel a little bad about the manipulation, but it was for a good cause. Dean would get something good out of it in the end, and that would entirely make up for any minor damage to his self-esteem along the way.

"Let's get this over with," Dean growled, "I really don't see why you had to come too."

"I'll help you pick. It has to be appropriate," Sam insisted. Really, he was just there to make sure Dean didn't chicken out and not even go into the mall, or end up with another army-green overshirt, or get distracted by the muffler shop or food-court and not end up buying anything.

Dean's eyes widened as they entered the mall. "Holy crap, there are a lot of people here. What the hell are they all doing? Don't they have jobs?"

Sam subtly blocked his brother's escape route. "There looks good," he said, pointing to a large clothing store. "Oh, and we should probably get something for Cas, too. They won't let him in in what he's wearing."

Dean grinned. "You know, let's call him right now. I can't wait to see his face when you try to get him into a dress."

Strangely, nobody seemed to notice when Cas materialised a few moments later in the middle of the store. Sam guessed there were enough people browsing the racks that one more didn't really make a difference.

"What is it?" Cas asked. His hair had come loose from its ponytail again, and was floating loosely around his shoulders, somewhat tangled, and his now too-big coat was dirty.

"We need to do some preparation for the case tonight," Sam said.

Cas narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why are we in a clothing shop?"

Dean's grin widened. "We need to buy you a dress. Gotta look your best to get into this club."

"The clothing I am wearing is perfectly serviceable," Cas said.

Dean shook his head. "Dude, they're not gonna let you in. You're probably gonna need shoes too."

"I could just..."

"Cas, you are not knocking the bouncers out. We need to be sneaky."

Cas sighed, looking annoyed. "Fine. How long is this going to take?"

They found Dean a shirt pretty quickly. Sam was a little put out that Dean hadn't liked any of his options, going so far as to say: "Sam, you have the worst taste in clothing of anyone I know, I'm not wearing any of those.". He wasn't that bad! There just weren't a lot of options in his size.

Dean ended up with a plain green shirt with very fine paler green pinstripes, which Sam privately thought looked like a supermarket worker's uniform, but that Cas and the small audience around the fitting rooms all seemed to like.

Then it was time to pick Cas's dress.

"This is ridiculous," Cas complained, "It will be impractical to fight in. And I am definitely cutting off this hair." He shoved it out of his eyes in annoyance.

"Suck it up, Cas, I had to try on a bunch of clothes too," Dean said. "Wow. There's a lot of ugly clothes here."

"Can I help you?" A shop assistant came over. Sam saw Dean give her the fake smile that meant he was about to send her on her way, and jumped in first.

"Yes please," he said, nudging Cas.

"What can I do for you?" The shop assistant asked pleasantly. She was middle aged and classily dressed. Sam thought she would do very well for dressing Cas.

"I require an appropriate dress for wearing to an upscale club," Cas informed her.

The shop assistant smiled and tried to lead him away, but Cas turned and fixed the brothers with a stern glare. "Dean. Sam. Come with me."

Dean could barely contain his glee as he watched Cas interacting with the shop assistant. Sam had to admit, it was pretty funny. Cas was becoming stiffer and more awkward by the second. He didn't know his size, had no colour preferences. When he was asked about styles he looked beseechingly at Dean.

"What are you looking at me for? I don't know anything about chick clothes," he protested.

"I require your opinion," Cas insisted.

"Ask Sam."

"You told me Sam had no taste in clothes."

Sam glared at his brother. Dean just had a problem with colour. And patterns. What was so wrong with liking interesting shirts, anyway?

"Just try something on, Cas, we haven't got all day."

"Yes we do," Cas said, "The club doesn't open until 9pm. But I would greatly prefer to be finished here well before then."

The shop assistant presented Cas with several hangers with dresses on them, offering to show her to the fitting rooms with a polite smile.

"Thank you, Linda," Cas said, grabbing Dean's wrist and dragging him along. Sam followed, grinning as Dean allowed himself to be led across the store. He didn't even pry Cas's fingers from his wrist. That was progress, right? They were practically holding hands.

There was a slightly awkward moment outside the fitting rooms, where Cas tried to make Dean go in with him.

"You-You're a big boy, you can do it yourself," Dean stuttered, and walked into a rack of skirts. "Ow, fu-"

Sam could just about see the images of a semi-naked Cas, and fitting-room porn floating through Dean's brain, and now he was thinking about it too, and kind of wanted to bang his head on the wall to make it go away. Because, yeah, he wanted Dean and Cas to get together, but he could have happily gone his whole life without imagining them committing public indecency in a semi-upmarket clothes shop.

Linda looked at Dean strangely and cut him off before he could get the curse out, her polite smile seeming a little more forced than before. She turned to Cas. "Why don't you try those on, dear? I'll be right outside if you need any sizes or opinions. So will your... friends?"

"Don't forget to come out and show us," Dean reminded Cas with a wide smile.

So they waited while Cas put on the first dress. And waited. And waited. There was a series of thuds and a faint sound of annoyance from Cas's fitting room. They waited some more. Sam tapped his fingers on his legs. Dean browsed through the skirts on the rack he'd almost knocked over with way more interest than Sam was comfortable with.

Although, now that he thought about it, Sam had always suspected that Dean was more interested in clothes than he let on. It made sense. He did spend a lot of time on his hair, after all, and he did always say he was the handsome one. He probably did like to wear clothes that showed him off to advantage every now and then. Although, it was a little weird that he was looking at skirts.

There was another thud from the fitting room.

"You okay, Cas?" Dean called.

"Would you like some help?" Linda asked.

The door of the fitting room opened and Cas came out, looking even more dishevelled than before, and wearing a tiny black dress that looked somehow wrong. "This dress appears to have been designed to entangle unsuspecting wearers in its bewildering network of unnecessary fabric," he announced. "I am not sure my arms are through the correct holes, and there is some kind of buckle digging into my upper thigh."

Dean doubled over laughing. Cas looked affronted. "It is far more complicated than it looks, Dean. I'd like to see you attempt to put it on." He glared once more at Dean and then turned his gaze on Linda, who was staring at Cas like she'd just encountered an alien. "I require your assistance to remove it. It is very uncomfortable."

"Certainly," Linda fixed her smile back on her face and ushered Cas back into the fitting room.

Dean gripped the skirt rack to hold himself up.

"Dean, it wasn't that funny," Sam said, but he couldn't help laughing too. The expression on Cas's face! It had looked very uncomfortable, though. Sam was pretty sure he'd had it on sideways.

Dean stopped laughing when Cas re-emerged a few moments later in a dress that Linda had helped him into.

"I don't think this is appropriate," Cas said, "It's very tight."

"If you don't like it, you can choose something else, Cas," Sam replied, because Dean seemed to have lost the ability to speak and was holding a skirt in front of him in a suspicious fashion.

"I think it will impair my movement," Cas said, looking down at the dress, a silky red number that displayed enough cleavage that Sam was having a hard time keeping his eyes off it.

"I dunno, Cas," Dean stumbled. "I think it's quite... good."

"Are you alright, Dean?" Cas peered at him. "You're behaving strangely."

"I'm fine," Dean squeaked, and edged behind the skirt rack.

"Is there anything else?" Cas asked Linda. "I need to be able to move my legs freely."

Sam had to say, Linda was impressively professional.

"Are you okay, Dean?" Sam asked when Cas and Linda had gone back into the fitting room.

Dean leaned on the skirt rack and hid his head in his arms, groaning.

"Cas is hot, right?" Sam said, chuckling.

"I hate you," said Dean.

The third dress, a flimsy, semi-transparent floaty black thing, was vetoed by Cas as not secure enough. Dean maintained his position behind the rack of skirts and blushed when Cas asked his opinion.

"Oh, you probably don't want to know," he said. Sam was pretty sure he was imagining it falling off as Cas kicked some monster ass.

The last dress was blue, to match Cas's vessel's eyes. Sam was pretty sure Linda the salesperson had deliberation shown them in that order, because it was also the most expensive, but there was no going back after seeing it. It fit well, but wasn't too revealing, flattering Cas's vessel perfectly.

"Do a twirl, dear," Linda instructed.

Cas turned on the spot.

Sam watched his brother's eyes widen.

"Dude!" said Dean, "It swirls like your coat."

"It will provide a dramatic image tonight," Cas acknowledged.

"Hah! I knew that was why you wore the coat."

"I'll wear this, then," Cas said. "Can we leave now?"

* * *

But the best part of the whole trip for Sam was paying for the stuff. Or more specifically, watching Dean show Cas how to use the credit card. Because no matter how much Dean had liked seeing Cas in revealing dresses, it was obvious that what he liked best was seeing Cas being his same old awkward self, and teaching him about humanity.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam dragged Cas along when he went to pick up dinner that night. Dean had looked like he might protest when Sam had suggested it, but he'd just given a falsely casual shrug and reminded them to bring back pie. Sam thought he was probably picking up that Sam was trying to get Cas alone to talk to him, but didn't know how to put a stop to it without letting on about his not very secret massive crush on Cas.

Cas frowned at him as they waited for the Chinese food. "I know what you're doing, Sam," he said, "and I know you engineered this so you could speak to me alone."

Right. Of course Cas knew. "I just want you guys to be happy," he said.

Cas stared fixedly at the menu on the wall. "There is a real hunt tonight, isn't there?" he said. "Because I will not be happy if you have called me down here for no reason."

Sam sighed. "Of course it's a real hunt. I just think it's a good opportunity for you to tell Dean how you feel. Don't you want more than, you know, staring and secret night time conversations about feelings?"

Cas looked at him sideways. "My relationship with Dean is fine. We do not need your meddling."

"Why don't you want to tell him? He likes you back, you know."

"It does not seem advisable." Cas looked at the floor.

"Why not? You guys clearly care about each other."

"I... do not wish to ruin our friendship."

The cashier called out their order just then, so Sam used the time it took to collect it to decide how to respond. He groaned to himself. Really? Cas thought Dean didn't like him back? Even after all the tie- adjusting and staring and talking about feelings, which Dean didn't do ever, with anyone.

"Trust me, Cas. It's not going to ruin your friendship. He's just too scared to say anything in case you don't feel the same as him, which you obviously do."

"So you're suggesting I take the opportunity during the hunt to declare my eternal devotion to him?"

Sam gulped. Wow. He'd known Cas had feelings for Dean, but after all the avoidance, he hadn't really been expecting Cas to just come out with it. "Well, I was more thinking of something like you telling him you want to spend more time together. Or kissing him or something."

Cas continued as if he had not spoken. "Because Dean will not respond well to that."

That was probably true. Dean didn't tend to take declarations of love well. Sam knew from experience. "Okay, new plan. We need to get Dean to tell you how he feels first."

* * *

Sam kept his distance behind Dean and Cas as they went into the club, trying not to look like he was with them. He waited patiently in the line, fifteen people between him and his brother and Cas. Around them, everyone was dressed to the nines. To Sam's eyes, it seemed the club was the hotspot for young, well off business people, all of them in new, fashionable clothes, subtle colognes and natural-looking makeup. Even in the crowd of beautiful people, Dean and Cas stood out. Dean's green shirt suited him, and Cas was stunning in the blue dress. Dean was smiling down at Cas, explaining something as she looked around in confusion. Probably something about why people were willing to wait in line for twenty minutes in order to stand around in semi-darkness yelling at each other as they attempted to make themselves heard over what could only loosely be termed 'music'. He lost sight of them as the bouncer waved them in, and waited for his turn, trying not to look like a creeper who went to clubs alone to pick up chicks.

Inside the club, Sam bought a drink and looked around for a place to sit, where he could keep an eye on Dean and Cas, who seemed to have disappeared into the throng of people. All the seats seemed to be occupied, so he found a wall to lurk against and took a sip of his beer before peering around the room, trying to catch a glimpse of his brother.

There were far more people in here than Sam was comfortable with. Surely it was a fire hazard. Sam had been to a few clubs at college, but only a few - he'd been too busy studying to go out often. He remembered them being sticky-floored and crowded and hot, essentially mating grounds for scantily clad college students. He'd only ever danced when he was very, very drunk. There were certain activities being tall and long-limbed were not ideal for.

Apparently, the dislike for dancing ran in the family. Sam grinned as he saw Dean and Cas standing on the dance floor, looking awkwardly at each other. Sam grinned. This was golden. He was torn between wanting to look away from the excruciating awkwardfest in embarrassment, and wanting to bring out his phone and film it to blackmail Dean with. The dance floor was crowded with beautifully dressed young people, their faces shadowed by the dim lights as they swayed to the rhythm of the music. Dean and Cas were blocked in between a group of young women in new, expensive dresses, dancing in a circle, and two couples slow dancing, despite the fast beat of the music. Dean wiggled his arms stiffly, slightly out of time with the music. Cas imitated him. Sam laughed and pulled out his phone, humour value beating embarrassment.

Sadly, Sam couldn't stand around watching Dean and Cas's unsuccessful attempts to look like ordinary club-goers the whole night. Something was stealing the male halves of happy couples and Sam had to snoop around for people acting suspicious. Reluctantly, he stopped filming and pushed off the wall, making his way back towards the tables to find someone to talk to. As he snuck a final glance at his brother and Cas, he saw Dean take Cas's hands in his, and move them back and forth in time to the music, both of them looking around the dance floor for suspects.

"Hi, there," Sam smiled at the first person he found sitting alone, "Can I buy you a drink?"

The man cast a glance over him. "Sorry, man, you're not my type."

Sam blushed. Now that he thought about it, people didn't tend to go talk to people in bars unless they wanted something else as well. "No, uh, that's not what I meant. I was just... my brother kind of ditched me for his girlfriend and I wanted to sit down, but I thought it would be weird to just come sit at your table."

The guy smiled, revealing perfect, white teeth that almost glowed in the dark. "That's fine, man." He gestured to the seat opposite him with a perfectly manicured hand.

"You get ditched, too?" Sam asked casually. To tell the truth, the guy kind of gave him the creeps. He was very clean looking. Almost too perfect.

"No," said the guy, his blue eyes roving over the crowd, lingering on a woman in a low cut red dress. No, wait, on the guy dancing with her. Sam caught a glint of diamond on her ring finger as she snaked her arms around his neck.

"You come here often?" Sam asked, "I'm Sam, by the way."

"Nicholas," the guy next to him said, without taking his eyes off the couple. "I come here a bit."

"Did you hear about the guys disappearing from here?" Sam asked in desperation. This guy really didn't want to talk to him, and from the way he was watching the couple, it wasn't because he thought Sam was hitting on him. It was because he was preoccupied. Definitely suspicious.

The man dancing with the red-dress woman extricated himself from her embrace, pulling her off the dance floor towards the bar by the hand. As they wound through the dances, Sam saw the man cast a lingering glance over a group of women, and his fiancée tug at his hand, frowning. Trouble in paradise, it seemed. Sam looked at Nicholas, who had moved his gaze elsewhere, apparently losing interest.

Hmm. Interesting. Sam sipped his beer. "Do they have any leads about the disappearances?" Sam asked, trying to draw Nicholas back into conversation.

Nicholas checked his gold watch. "I don't know," he said shortly. "I haven't heard anything about disappearances." His gaze was back on the crowd once more, looking for something.

Sam followed his line of sight to a pair of figures, pushed up against the wall, practically devouring each other. All Sam could see of them was a thick tumble of blonde hair and the back of a silky top and miniskirt, with a pair of men's hands on the hips of the woman. He looked back at Nicholas, who was wearing an expression of serious concentration on his face as he watched them. Perve? Sam wondered. Or something more dangerous?

The man's hands drifted under the woman's top and she pushed in closer than ever. Nicholas moved beside Sam, looking like he was making to stand up. But then another woman, this one with dark hair in a sleek updo marched up to the couple against the wall and dragged the woman away, in a hail of protests from both the man and the woman. Sam watched as she led her friend to the bar and ordered water.

Nicholas was back to looking around the room. Over the next few minutes, Sam saw his gaze pause on a married couple laughing at the next table, and move on when they were joined by friends. A couple slow dancing on the dance floor. A handsome older man with a woman at least fifteen years his junior. An exceptionally handsome man talking enthusiastically to the woman he came in with, only to be interrupted by another man planting a brief kiss on his cheek.

Sam got up to replace his beer, because Nicholas was starting to look at him suspiciously. When he turned back from the bar, the table where he'd been sitting was empty. Crap. He looked around quickly, his heart rate rising at the thought he might have let this creature, man, whatever he was, get away. He caught sight of Nicholas's perfectly gelled black hair through the crowd on the edge of the dance floor and followed him as surreptitiously as he could, given his height.

He moved a little to the rhythm of the music, trying to look like he belonged there and wasn't stalking some guy through the club. Hopefully, if Nicholas happened to glance back, he would just think Sam was either a pathetic lone-club goer, or a particularly persistent flirt. Finally getting into position to see what Nicholas was looking at, he looked through the crowd. Straight at Dean and Cas.

They seemed to have given up any real attempt at dancing, and were standing close together, swaying, with their arms around each other. Sam couldn't help smiling as they looked into each other's eyes the way everyone always dreamed about getting lost in their lover's eyes. It was both exactly what Sam had been aiming for, and a little nauseating. Maybe he hadn't needed to give Cas that advice about making Dean jealous. It looked like tonight, they were doing just fine on their own.

"Well, hello there," a voice purred from the region of his left bicep. Sam looked down at to where a petite brunette was running her hand lightly over his chest.

"Um, I'm, I have a girlfriend," he lied, stepping back.

"Oh, honey," the woman said, "We both know that isn't true. You've been watching that man for the last half hour."

Sam nodded quickly, lifting her hand off his body. "Yeah, I'm gay, sorry."

She cast him a flirtatious glance through her lashes. "I could convert you."

"No, I'm really not interested," Sam said firmly, dodging around a solidly built man in trendy glasses and sneaking between two men and the girl they were both dancing with to get away.

When he'd shaken the woman off he looked around for Nicholas, who seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth. He looked back to where Dean and Cas had been a minute before.

Suddenly, Cas was beside him, right up in his personal space, glaring at him. "Dean is gone," he said, every bit as scary as he had been in his male vessel.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Okay. This was okay. They could deal with this. After all, this was what they had been aiming for. Sort of. Well, in truth, the idea had been that whatever was stealing men would approach Dean, Dean would lure it out of sight of the public, and Sam and Cas would follow them and deal with it. But they could work with this. Dean could look after himself, and he'd probably left a trail for them. They just had to find him in time to give him back up if he needed it.

"How did you lose him?" He couldn't help asking Cas in annoyance.

Cas glared right back at him. "I was doing what you told me to do."

"What are you talking about?" Sam looked back at Cas blankly.

"Now is not the time for this," Cas growled at him. "We need to find Dean."

They made their way back across to where Dean and Cas had been dancing. Sam tapped one of the women dancing nearby on the shoulder. "Have you seen the guy who was dancing here?" He asked, just as the song changed to something loud and electronic.

"What?" she shouted back.

Sam gestured to Cas. "Her boyfriend, have you seen him?" He shouted.

The woman looked at Cas with some sort of vindictive smugness. "Not so perfect, after all," she shouted.

Cas took a step forward, glowering dangerously.

The woman pointed in the direction of the bar and the dark corridor beside it that led to the bathrooms. "He went that way," she smirked, "With a guy. They looked pretty friendly."

What the hell? Sam thought as he and Cas pushed through the crowd to the corridor. Dean and Cas had practically been confessing their undying love for each other one second, then Sam had got distracted for a minute, and now Dean had gone off down a dark corridor looking cosy with a guy? "What were you doing while this was happening?" he asked Cas.

"Making him jealous," said Cas. "You give very bad advice, Sam."

Come on. It hadn't been that bad. There had been no reason to think Dean would disappear with someone else while Cas had his back turned. Cas just had to pick his moments better. Making Dean jealous would totally work in the right situation. Cas just hadn't worked out that at that moment she hadn't needed any tricks to get Dean to realise his feelings.

He stopped a man who was coming out of the men's bathroom, asking him, "Have you seen a guy in there? Six one, extremely handsome, green shirt? Maybe with another guy?"

The man shook his head, but one of the women waiting in line for the Ladies spoke up. "I think I saw them. Did the other guy have black hair? I saw two guys go into the storage closet down the hall. The guy in the green shirt looked really drunk. You should probably go find him. But maybe give them a few minutes first, if you know what I mean."

Sam glanced at Cas, who had visibly flinched at the suggestion. Yeah, waiting probably wasn't happening. They carried on in the direction she was gesturing. The corridor got darker and less populated as it turned a corner, leading to the bowels of the building. They passed a Staff Only door, a couple making out on a corner, and then saw the unmarked door that must be the closet the woman had mentioned.

Sam looked around, making sure the making-out couple wasn't looking, and pulled out his gun. He put his back to the wall beside the door and quickly flung it open.

"This is not a storage closet," said Cas, who hadn't bothered to move to one side in case of gunfire.

Sam moved off the wall and followed Cas in. It wasn't a storage closet. It was stairs.

It was dark at the top off the stairs, with the uneven stone steps curving downwards. A strange green light was emanating from something Sam couldn't see at the bottom. They were exactly the kind of steps that, in Sam's experience, always had something unpleasant at the bottom.

"We should-" Sam began. Make a plan, he'd been going to say, but Cas had already vanished. Presumably walking down the steps was too time-consuming. Couldn't waste twenty seconds making a plan and another fifteen walking down some stairs when Dean was in trouble.

A loud crashing sounded at the bottom of the stairs, and the green light flickered. Something roared, harsh and fierce. Sam cocked his gun. Time to lend a hand.

There was something slimy and green on the walls, and it wasn't moss or mould or any of the usual suspects in a basement.

The sound of a commotion coming from the base of the stairs was getting louder. Sam concentrated on not slipping on the goo that was now not only on the walls, but also covering the worn-down stone of the steps. At the bottom, the hallway widened into a small chamber. The green slime was almost knee-deep throughout it, clinging to the walls and making strings like thick spider webs across the roof. It glowed with its own light. Sam had never seen anything like it. A deep sense of foreboding filled him. He didn't like going into situations not knowing what he was facing. He especially didn't like going in not knowing how to kill it.

A blob of goo the size of his head came flying through the rough archway to his left and landed on the floor, squelching into the already thick layer of green slime. Sam shuddered and squelched across to peer through the hole in the wall.

In the attached chamber, a fight was going on. It was a little difficult to tell what was happening, considering the sheer amount of green goo that was flying around. Dean would probably be making jello-wrestling jokes right now, but Sam liked to think he was too mature for that. Also, jello-wrestling jokes were only funny when Dean was there to react.

Cas was there, long hair darkened and stringy with goo, blue dress no longer blue, plastered to his body with slime. His angel blade was in his hand, looking larger in the smaller, more delicate fingers of his new vessel. "Where's Dean?" He threatened, blade at the throat of the man he was fighting with.

Nicholas was miraculously clean, seemingly entirely unbothered by the slime. He laughed, and the sound was almost as slimy as the substance Sam was currently wading through. "You should be honoured," he told Cas, "His love for you was strong enough to make him worthy of my queen."

"Dean is not interested in your queen," Cas jabbed his angel blade into Nicholas's shoulder and twisted.

Sam took the opportunity to edge his way into the room, moving behind Nicholas, out of view. He aimed his gun at Nicholas, firing one silver bullet directly at his heart.

Nicholas moved. It was like he knew it was coming. He dived forward, tackling Cas down into the glowing goo, and held him there. Sam's bullet slammed harmlessly into the wall, sending up a splash of green and making a thin spiderweb of cracks in the stone. He tucked the gun away and pulled out the demon-killing knife; sure that Nicholas would turn and attack him.

Cas struggled as Nicholas held him under the lime jello, kicking up splashes that somehow slid off Nicholas without leaving a mark, but clung tenaciously to Sam and left snail-trails as they slowly slid down his body. It was strangely warm.

Sam struggled across to help Cas, the substance preventing any sudden or quiet movements. He went to stab Ruby's knife into the man's back, but suddenly he released Cas and turned, shoving Sam down into the goo, before turning back to where Cas had been a second before.

"I'm going to get Dean," Cas informed Sam from somewhere behind him. "Do not think about your actions before attempting anything, and do not look him in the eye."

Then Cas was gone, stalking through the rough doorway into the next cavern, looking no less dangerous for the way his skirt clung to his thighs and the bare skin of his arms and shoulders was covered in a thin green sheen.

Sam floundered to his feet, sending up a spray of green. He shoved his now stringy hair out of his eyes, slicking it back with the green goo. He focussed determinedly on Nicholas's spotless left foot, where he stood lightly on top of the slime.

"Oh Sam," said Nicholas, "Do you really think you can get past me? I'm a psychic. I know every move you're going to make. That's how I know these men truly love their women, and are worthy of the queen."

Sam didn't look up from the man's shiny black shoe. "How do you get them to come with you?"

Maybe if he kept Nicholas talking long enough, Cas could get Dean out of there.

"That's not going to work, Sam. I know what you're doing," Nicholas turned to walk through the door Cas had just gone through.

Keep him talking, keep him talking, Sam chanted in his head. He dived forward suddenly and grabbed Nicholas around the knees, sending him stumbling down into the goo with Sam.

But Sam's hands were slippery and Nicholas's legs soon slipped out of his grip. The man was up again in no time, while Sam was still slipping around as he tried to get to his feet.

Nicholas laughed again, the goo slipping off him to leave him perfectly clean. "Oh, very good, Sam. But I'm done playing, now. You won't do for the Queen's consort. She's got your brother for that, and you have yet to demonstrate your ability to give a woman love worthy of the queen. But she can always do with feeding. And you'll make a good meal. Come with me," he commanded, beckoning towards the door.

"Um, how about no," Sam said.

"Come with me," Nicholas commanded again. Sam watched his feet turn and walk over to him.

"Why the hell would I do that?" Sam asked.

Nicholas reached down and grabbed Sam's chin in a surprisingly hard grip for such a perfectly manicured hand. He wrenched Sam's head up. Sam squeezed his eyes shut.

"Look at me," Nicholas ordered. The words reverberated in Sam's head. It reminded him of something he'd felt before. Oh, right. Andy. The jedi mind control guy with the evil twin. He'd been nice. But Andy hadn't been able to compel Sam to anything, and neither could this guy.

Sam opened his eyes. But it was his choice, not Nicholas's. "Sorry, your thing doesn't work on me," he said. "Tell me, how come you weren't at Cold Oak? Already committed yourself to evil?"

"My Queen is not evil," Nicholas ground out between clenched teeth. "She's just misunderstood."

"Oh, sure. Misunderstood," said Sam. His hand was touching something smooth and hard and cylindrical. He was pretty sure it was a human femur. It scared him a little that he could identify that by touch. "She takes happy men in love to be her mate and then eats them."

"People are too focussed on looks, these days," Nicholas said, "They see a woman like the Queen, and don't even give her a chance, simply because they don't like the way she looks. Everyone deserves a chance at love."

Nicholas's eyes took on a faraway look as he thought about his queen. Sam took the opportunity to sweep his leg and roll him face-down in the slime. He planted his knee in the middle of the Nicholas's back and twisted his arms behind his back, zip-tying them in place.

Nicholas kept the fight up for a few minutes, doing pretty well for himself despite not having the use of his hands, but eventually Sam managed to get him against the wall, cracking the guy's skull against it hard enough to send him crumpling to the floor. Sam left him on the floor and went after Dean and Cas.


End file.
